In case the pictures didn't give you enough of a taste of outreach, here's a video. Throughout outreach, Ari filmed the team dancing to T Swift's "Shake it Off" and compiled the footage into this little gem at the end of our trip. I'm sure you've all come to love Ari's videos, and I personally think this is one of her best. I hope you enjoy!
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Monday, January 12, 2015
Outreach in a Thousand(ish) Pictures
So, I feel like I owe you guys an overview of my outreach experience.
The only problem is, it would take me 10 days to write the first
paragraph. Outreach was over a month ago and I still have trouble
putting it into words. But who needs words when you have photos? I seem
to recall they were worth more anyway...
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| Look at us, so clean, well-rested, and naive. |
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| What made our 18 hour layover in Bangkok bearable? Thai food. |
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| Beautiful Kathmandu. |
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| Streets are prettier from the roof. |
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| This street was just plain pretty, even without a rooftop view. |
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| The girls (students) of the Priceless DTS! |
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| Some parts of Nepal look like this... |
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| ...and other parts look like this. |
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| In Nepal, we performed a drama about human trafficking twice a day for 10 days. |
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| What I wouldn't give for a samosa right now! |
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| The Nepal-India border. |
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| Sights of Kolkata: The Victoria Memorial... |
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| ...St. Paul's Cathedral... |
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| ...and best of all, Mother Teresa's tomb. |
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| We met many amazing Christians in Kolkata. |
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| Reunited with the other half of the Priceless DTS after 5 weeks apart! |
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| The cutest kid ever (that's his happy face). |
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| Words can't describe how much I love my team. |
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| We taught at an after school program for the children of sex workers. |
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| This little girl loved to show off her dance moves and teach me Hindi. |
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| My favorite part of outreach was speaking...a lot. |
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| These sweet kids called everyone, "auntie." |
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| The first and only time I've worn purple pants. |
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| We taught at schools about trafficking, bullying, sexual abuse, and identity. |
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| How did I get those boys to sit in a perfect circle? Sometimes I amaze myself. |
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| We taught boys aged 5-19. |
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| And of course, more trafficking drama. |
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| The slums were some of the most beautiful, colorful places in the city. |
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| Indian kids are so sassy! |
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| Market shopping was one of my favorite Indian experiences. |
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| The hardest part of leaving India was saying goodbye to our amazing friends. |
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| I left India with 10 inches less hair than when I arrived. |
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| Lovely Thailand. |
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| Thai food is the best, including green Fanta in a bag. |
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| My classy, naturally photogenic YWAM family. |
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| We couldn't miss the Hunger Games! |
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| Why am I smiling? Because it's Christmastime and 90 degrees. |
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| We rode in the back of this Sang-tao to all of our ministry events. |
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| And on a completely unrelated note, here's a picture of my brother doing a duck-face. Because that's what you get when you take selfies on your sister's ipod! |
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Two-faced Thailand
Thailand is a country with two faces.
One is the face tourists flock to see— the Thailand you see from the back of your sang-tao, driving down pristine highways, passing 10-level shopping malls and 7-Eleven after 7-Eleven. The Thailand that tastes like red curry and cheap mango smoothies, served to you by a smiling, bowing woman with an orchid in her hair. The Thailand of white beaches and elephant rides, ancient temples and knock-off Louis Vuitton handbags.
But Thailand has her secrets, some hidden beneath layers of culture and tradition, and others just a stop away on the BTS line.
Bangkok’s multiple red light districts are famous all over the world. Men (and women) flock from every continent to spend a night, a week, a month soaking up its pleasures. With them, they bring sad stories, broken pasts, and fat wallets.
Thailand has built an entire industry around sex—some travel agencies offer Thailand vacation packages with prostitution included in the price. Advertisers of Thai sexual services specifically target men from Japan, the Middle East, North America, and Western Europe. And it seems to be working—male tourists to Thailand outnumber female tourists 3 to 1.
Prostitution has existed in Thailand for centuries. During the Vietnam War, the Thai government entered into a contract with the United States Department of Defense to provide “recreation and relaxation” for American soldiers. In 1975, the Thai government, with help from the World Bank, developed an economic plan that depended heavily on the sex industry. For years, the government encouraged prostitution, and today, prostitution is an integral part of the Thai economy.
The Thai sex industry is huge, profitable, and completely outside the government’s control. Thailand is a source, transit, and destination for human trafficking. The government has made some efforts to end human trafficking, but police corruption, bias against migrant workers, and a general lack of understanding among local officials have rendered their efforts ineffective. According to HumanTrafficking.org, “For these reason, the Thai Government was placed in Tier 2 in the 2011 U.S. Department of State’s Trafficking in Persons Report (TIP Report) for not fully complying with the Trafficking Victims Protection Act’s minimum standards for the elimination of trafficking but making significant efforts to do so. This marks Thailand’s second consecutive year on Tier 2.”
In the midst of all the numbers and politics, are the women. In a culture that offers few opportunities for women, prostitution is often viewed as a poor woman’s only choice. The gap between rich and poor is large, and prostitution can be seen as an opportunity for a better life. Prostitution pays higher wages than most other professions and many women use prostitution to supplement another form of income. Many young women dream that prostitution will lead to marriage with a wealthy client who will whisk them away to a life of luxury.
In rural areas, where agriculture is the only form of employment, many parents sell their daughters into prostitution at a young age. Prostitution promises high wages and better living conditions for daughters, who will be able to send some of their wages home to their families. Unfortunately, many parents don’t realize that most prostitutes live and work in dangerous conditions—many girls experience abuse and some are even killed. Most daughters however, never share the reality of their conditions with their parents. The money pours in, and the family can suddenly afford a flock of chickens, new farming equipment, an addition to their home. Tradition dictates that daughters are responsible for providing for parents in their old age, and many families view their daughter’s prostitution as the fulfillment of this duty. Add to this the rumors that float around rural villages about the girl who snagged a rich western husband, and the cycle continues for generations.
There are many factors behind the Thai sex industry, but the reality is that prostitution destroys women. Day after day, year after year, these women are told that their bodies have a price tag, that their preferences come second to pleasing others, that they are wanted not for who they are but for what they have to give away. They give everything they have, over and over, until there’s nothing more to give, until they’re just a body with a numbered value. They don’t think because thinking reveals a reality they’re trying to hide from, they don’t dream because they’ve given up on hope, they don’t speak because no one cares what they have to say.
I spent 16 days on the outskirts of Bangkok. For 15 of those days, I saw the gently smiling, all-you-can-eat buffet that is Thailand. But for 1 day my team went into the red light district of Na Na. We walked down the streets looking for a place to eat, and I saw women with painted faces and men with leering grins and tired eyes.
I’ve seen brokenness before. I’ve seen poverty and near-death breathing and children with pleading eyes, but this was something different. This was a crushing of spirit that made my chest hurt. This was a robbery of humanity. This was a lie and a cheap, plastic imitation of life. There were no victims and victimizers, no good guys and bad guys, just one great, gaping need.
Satan doesn’t take sides, he wants it all. He doesn’t target one demographic, he wants everyone. Satan wants to enslave every person, breathe every lie, beat down every divine image until they’re almost unrecognizable.
I’ve never been anywhere like Na Na, but I imagine it’s a lot like hell.
How can we justify the reality of Thailand? How can we enjoy cheap luxuries without considering their cost? How can we ride on the backs of elephants when there’s an entire industry riding on the backs of desperate people? How can we allow ourselves to be fooled by Thailand’s lovely, airbrushed face when there’s a broken, bloodied one behind it?
Thailand is a country with two faces. Don’t be so distracted by the peace you ignore the pain. Don’t be so distracted by the beauty you ignore the brokenness. Please, don’t be so fooled by the facade you ignore the truth.
One is the face tourists flock to see— the Thailand you see from the back of your sang-tao, driving down pristine highways, passing 10-level shopping malls and 7-Eleven after 7-Eleven. The Thailand that tastes like red curry and cheap mango smoothies, served to you by a smiling, bowing woman with an orchid in her hair. The Thailand of white beaches and elephant rides, ancient temples and knock-off Louis Vuitton handbags.
But Thailand has her secrets, some hidden beneath layers of culture and tradition, and others just a stop away on the BTS line.
Bangkok’s multiple red light districts are famous all over the world. Men (and women) flock from every continent to spend a night, a week, a month soaking up its pleasures. With them, they bring sad stories, broken pasts, and fat wallets.
Thailand has built an entire industry around sex—some travel agencies offer Thailand vacation packages with prostitution included in the price. Advertisers of Thai sexual services specifically target men from Japan, the Middle East, North America, and Western Europe. And it seems to be working—male tourists to Thailand outnumber female tourists 3 to 1.
Prostitution has existed in Thailand for centuries. During the Vietnam War, the Thai government entered into a contract with the United States Department of Defense to provide “recreation and relaxation” for American soldiers. In 1975, the Thai government, with help from the World Bank, developed an economic plan that depended heavily on the sex industry. For years, the government encouraged prostitution, and today, prostitution is an integral part of the Thai economy.
The Thai sex industry is huge, profitable, and completely outside the government’s control. Thailand is a source, transit, and destination for human trafficking. The government has made some efforts to end human trafficking, but police corruption, bias against migrant workers, and a general lack of understanding among local officials have rendered their efforts ineffective. According to HumanTrafficking.org, “For these reason, the Thai Government was placed in Tier 2 in the 2011 U.S. Department of State’s Trafficking in Persons Report (TIP Report) for not fully complying with the Trafficking Victims Protection Act’s minimum standards for the elimination of trafficking but making significant efforts to do so. This marks Thailand’s second consecutive year on Tier 2.”
In the midst of all the numbers and politics, are the women. In a culture that offers few opportunities for women, prostitution is often viewed as a poor woman’s only choice. The gap between rich and poor is large, and prostitution can be seen as an opportunity for a better life. Prostitution pays higher wages than most other professions and many women use prostitution to supplement another form of income. Many young women dream that prostitution will lead to marriage with a wealthy client who will whisk them away to a life of luxury.
In rural areas, where agriculture is the only form of employment, many parents sell their daughters into prostitution at a young age. Prostitution promises high wages and better living conditions for daughters, who will be able to send some of their wages home to their families. Unfortunately, many parents don’t realize that most prostitutes live and work in dangerous conditions—many girls experience abuse and some are even killed. Most daughters however, never share the reality of their conditions with their parents. The money pours in, and the family can suddenly afford a flock of chickens, new farming equipment, an addition to their home. Tradition dictates that daughters are responsible for providing for parents in their old age, and many families view their daughter’s prostitution as the fulfillment of this duty. Add to this the rumors that float around rural villages about the girl who snagged a rich western husband, and the cycle continues for generations.
There are many factors behind the Thai sex industry, but the reality is that prostitution destroys women. Day after day, year after year, these women are told that their bodies have a price tag, that their preferences come second to pleasing others, that they are wanted not for who they are but for what they have to give away. They give everything they have, over and over, until there’s nothing more to give, until they’re just a body with a numbered value. They don’t think because thinking reveals a reality they’re trying to hide from, they don’t dream because they’ve given up on hope, they don’t speak because no one cares what they have to say.
I spent 16 days on the outskirts of Bangkok. For 15 of those days, I saw the gently smiling, all-you-can-eat buffet that is Thailand. But for 1 day my team went into the red light district of Na Na. We walked down the streets looking for a place to eat, and I saw women with painted faces and men with leering grins and tired eyes.
I’ve seen brokenness before. I’ve seen poverty and near-death breathing and children with pleading eyes, but this was something different. This was a crushing of spirit that made my chest hurt. This was a robbery of humanity. This was a lie and a cheap, plastic imitation of life. There were no victims and victimizers, no good guys and bad guys, just one great, gaping need.
Satan doesn’t take sides, he wants it all. He doesn’t target one demographic, he wants everyone. Satan wants to enslave every person, breathe every lie, beat down every divine image until they’re almost unrecognizable.
I’ve never been anywhere like Na Na, but I imagine it’s a lot like hell.
How can we justify the reality of Thailand? How can we enjoy cheap luxuries without considering their cost? How can we ride on the backs of elephants when there’s an entire industry riding on the backs of desperate people? How can we allow ourselves to be fooled by Thailand’s lovely, airbrushed face when there’s a broken, bloodied one behind it?
Thailand is a country with two faces. Don’t be so distracted by the peace you ignore the pain. Don’t be so distracted by the beauty you ignore the brokenness. Please, don’t be so fooled by the facade you ignore the truth.
Sources
Polak, Hilary. (11 November 2008). "Sex Tourism and Prostitution in Thailand." Serendip Studio. Retrieved 6 January 2015.
"Thailand." humantrafficking.org. Retrieved 6 January 2015.
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
India the Beautiful
India. Oh boy, where do I begin?
Let’s start with the noise. Taxis, motorbikes, autos, and rickshaws honking and screeching. The dull roar of millions of people living.
India smells like dirt and sweat and car exhaust. Animal dung and urine from public bathrooms. Sweet, sticky incense and Engage cologne.
When you first arrive, it’s easy to be blinded by the poverty. The slum housing that lines the streets. The beggars that extend their hands as you walk by. The children that pull at your clothes as you try your best to avoid their eyes.
India reminds me of a woman. A woman who’s witnessed thousands of years of change and tradition. A woman who’s been abused and abandoned by history. A woman who, despite her scars and rough edges, is achingly beautiful. In the slums, the houses are painted pink and blue and yellow. Ropes of laundry crisscross the narrow pathways and makeshift bridges cross canals of dingy water.
India has mothered many children, and they, like their mother, are beautiful. They sing and dance and clap their hands. They smile and laugh and tell stories. They invite you into their homes and offer you cups of sweet chai. They ask and listen and lay a hand on your arm.
There were times when I hated India. Times when the reality of hunger and sickness and injustice made me sick. But, there were times when I realized that past the circumstances are people. People who are happy and people who are not. People who are slaves to greed, lust, and pride and people who’ve been freed. People who want a little more and people who have the only gift any of us need.
It sounds like a Christian cop-out, but India showed me that it’s true. The only thing people need is complete, redeeming grace—everything else is a bonus.
You can see two things when you look at India; two pictures of the same situation. You can see a socio-economic disaster that demands money, time, expertise—solutions to problems, and believe me, there are plenty of those. Or you can see people. People who need to be healed of the same lies that once blinded you. People who need to be saved from the same sins that once controlled you. People who are enemies with the same God who now calls you friend.
We don’t need to fix India, we need to free India.
Let’s start with the noise. Taxis, motorbikes, autos, and rickshaws honking and screeching. The dull roar of millions of people living.
India smells like dirt and sweat and car exhaust. Animal dung and urine from public bathrooms. Sweet, sticky incense and Engage cologne.
When you first arrive, it’s easy to be blinded by the poverty. The slum housing that lines the streets. The beggars that extend their hands as you walk by. The children that pull at your clothes as you try your best to avoid their eyes.
India reminds me of a woman. A woman who’s witnessed thousands of years of change and tradition. A woman who’s been abused and abandoned by history. A woman who, despite her scars and rough edges, is achingly beautiful. In the slums, the houses are painted pink and blue and yellow. Ropes of laundry crisscross the narrow pathways and makeshift bridges cross canals of dingy water.
India has mothered many children, and they, like their mother, are beautiful. They sing and dance and clap their hands. They smile and laugh and tell stories. They invite you into their homes and offer you cups of sweet chai. They ask and listen and lay a hand on your arm.
There were times when I hated India. Times when the reality of hunger and sickness and injustice made me sick. But, there were times when I realized that past the circumstances are people. People who are happy and people who are not. People who are slaves to greed, lust, and pride and people who’ve been freed. People who want a little more and people who have the only gift any of us need.
It sounds like a Christian cop-out, but India showed me that it’s true. The only thing people need is complete, redeeming grace—everything else is a bonus.
You can see two things when you look at India; two pictures of the same situation. You can see a socio-economic disaster that demands money, time, expertise—solutions to problems, and believe me, there are plenty of those. Or you can see people. People who need to be healed of the same lies that once blinded you. People who need to be saved from the same sins that once controlled you. People who are enemies with the same God who now calls you friend.
We don’t need to fix India, we need to free India.
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Glimpses of Everest
I’m not sure if you noticed, but I haven’t posted in a while. About 3 months to be exact. Yeah, umm…sorry about that. Not that I didn’t have anything to write about—the past 3 months have been one big, crazy, amazing adventure—I’ve just had some difficulty getting my life into words. Anyways, I’m going to make it up to you. No, honest, I am.
As I’ve mentioned before, the second half of DTS is a 3 month outreach that offers opportunities to apply the knowledge of lecture phase. My DTS was split into 2 outreach teams—one team traveled to South Africa and India and my team traveled to Nepal, India, and Thailand.
In the beginning of October, my team flew from Perth, Australia to Bangkok, Thailand, spent 18 hours in the Bangkok airport—which, coincidentally, is not as big an airport as you would imagine—and then flew to Kathmandu, Nepal. We spent 2 nights at a backpacker’s hotel which boasted spectacular views of the Himalayas. Through the smog that always clouds the city, you could almost make out the staunch point of Everest, or so we were told.
After a few days acclimating to Nepali culture, we boarded a teeny tiny plane at the teeny tiny airport bound for Biratnagar, Nepal. There were 20 seats on that plane, and I was painfully aware of the lack of space, until we reached a few thousand feet and the Himalayas started floating past my window. I’ve seen mountains before, heck, I live in the Blue Ridge Mountains, but I’ve never seen anything as spectacular as those snow capped peaks, jutting up from the clouds.
We landed in Biratnagar alive and with reasonably good circulation…phew! I snapped a picture with an airport official because I won a gift certificate for a spa while in transit—literally the second thing I’ve won in my life. We spent the night with a young missionary couple and their wide-eyed, German-English-speaking, son. In the morning, we caught a bus for Birtamode. I’d like you to close your eyes for a moment and imagine riding down pocked dirt roads, your knees pressing into the seat in front of you, your shoulder glued to the person next to you, sweat trickling down your back, the smell of body odor and incense swirling in the sticky air, Nepali pop music blaring in the background—it was glorious. If there’d been any doubt as to where I was before, after that 3 hour bus ride, I knew I was in Nepal.
In Birtamode, we stayed with an amazing family who gave us beds to sleep on, cooked us 3 meals a day, did our laundry, and taught us Nepali dance moves in their spare time. For the next 10 days, we traveled all over the Nepali countryside doing open-airs. Open airs are public programs designed to catch and hold people’s attention. Our open-airs focused on human-trafficking prevention—we usually presented a drama about human trafficking, gave some general information about trafficking, presented a personal testimony, did a skit or two, and ended with a presentation of the gospel. The open-airs presented excellent opportunities to talk with people about trafficking, God, or politics and I was able to have some excellent conversations despite the language barrier.
On the weekends, we taught at several church services and were given the opportunity to present a 2 day seminar on human trafficking at a local church. We drove to and from all our events in the same yellow taxi, 12-15 people crammed in the back, jamming out to Nepali pop. It was in these times that our hosts taught us such popular dance moves as the “screwing in the light bulb,” “macarena with a twist,” and the oh-so-hilarious “how-to-eat-a-fly-and-still-look-swag.”
Our time with this loving, sacrificial family ended too quickly. At the end of our time in Nepal, we drove to the Indian border in our beloved yellow taxi, stayed the night in a terrifying hotel, and said goodbye to our friends before boarding a train bound for our next great adventure: Kolkata!
As I’ve mentioned before, the second half of DTS is a 3 month outreach that offers opportunities to apply the knowledge of lecture phase. My DTS was split into 2 outreach teams—one team traveled to South Africa and India and my team traveled to Nepal, India, and Thailand.
In the beginning of October, my team flew from Perth, Australia to Bangkok, Thailand, spent 18 hours in the Bangkok airport—which, coincidentally, is not as big an airport as you would imagine—and then flew to Kathmandu, Nepal. We spent 2 nights at a backpacker’s hotel which boasted spectacular views of the Himalayas. Through the smog that always clouds the city, you could almost make out the staunch point of Everest, or so we were told.
After a few days acclimating to Nepali culture, we boarded a teeny tiny plane at the teeny tiny airport bound for Biratnagar, Nepal. There were 20 seats on that plane, and I was painfully aware of the lack of space, until we reached a few thousand feet and the Himalayas started floating past my window. I’ve seen mountains before, heck, I live in the Blue Ridge Mountains, but I’ve never seen anything as spectacular as those snow capped peaks, jutting up from the clouds.
We landed in Biratnagar alive and with reasonably good circulation…phew! I snapped a picture with an airport official because I won a gift certificate for a spa while in transit—literally the second thing I’ve won in my life. We spent the night with a young missionary couple and their wide-eyed, German-English-speaking, son. In the morning, we caught a bus for Birtamode. I’d like you to close your eyes for a moment and imagine riding down pocked dirt roads, your knees pressing into the seat in front of you, your shoulder glued to the person next to you, sweat trickling down your back, the smell of body odor and incense swirling in the sticky air, Nepali pop music blaring in the background—it was glorious. If there’d been any doubt as to where I was before, after that 3 hour bus ride, I knew I was in Nepal.
In Birtamode, we stayed with an amazing family who gave us beds to sleep on, cooked us 3 meals a day, did our laundry, and taught us Nepali dance moves in their spare time. For the next 10 days, we traveled all over the Nepali countryside doing open-airs. Open airs are public programs designed to catch and hold people’s attention. Our open-airs focused on human-trafficking prevention—we usually presented a drama about human trafficking, gave some general information about trafficking, presented a personal testimony, did a skit or two, and ended with a presentation of the gospel. The open-airs presented excellent opportunities to talk with people about trafficking, God, or politics and I was able to have some excellent conversations despite the language barrier.
On the weekends, we taught at several church services and were given the opportunity to present a 2 day seminar on human trafficking at a local church. We drove to and from all our events in the same yellow taxi, 12-15 people crammed in the back, jamming out to Nepali pop. It was in these times that our hosts taught us such popular dance moves as the “screwing in the light bulb,” “macarena with a twist,” and the oh-so-hilarious “how-to-eat-a-fly-and-still-look-swag.”
Our time with this loving, sacrificial family ended too quickly. At the end of our time in Nepal, we drove to the Indian border in our beloved yellow taxi, stayed the night in a terrifying hotel, and said goodbye to our friends before boarding a train bound for our next great adventure: Kolkata!
Monday, October 27, 2014
Lecture Phase Recap
Lecture phase is over. I’m not entirely sure when that happened, but somehow I’m in Nepal, sweating in my makeshift Punjabi, drinking heaps of Nepalese tea, and reflecting on what God’s done in the past 3 months. I came to DTS for all the wrong reasons, but God’s power to change our lives isn’t limited by human motivation. I moved to Australia to get a tan, an Aussie boyfriend, and experience working in third world medicine. At the end of lecture phase, I’m pale, single, and no longer considering the Introduction to Primary Health Care School, but God has given me something greater: a calling.
I used to think God was distant and uninterested in my life, that He was looking down from heaven, shaking His head at my failures. I used to think I had to spin around three times with my finger to my nose to get Him to speak to me, but God’s been showing up for me these past 3 months, and He’s a different God than the one I thought I knew. He created me uniquely and perfectly and He’s been guiding my life since day one. He loves me unconditionally, regardless of whether or not I make Him look good. He’s always been speaking to me, even when I was too stubborn to hear Him. I came to DTS with a broken view of God and myself, but if there’s one thing God’s been working to restore in my life these past few months, it’s dignity.
Simply put, dignity is knowing your inherent value regardless of the opinions of others. Dignity is knowing what you’re made of, or made after, and that’s God’s image. Dignity is an easy thing to lose. When we swallow Satan’s lies about who we are, we sacrifice the image for a black and white photocopy. We wander around in a mess of dissatisfaction trying to find ourselves, when all we’ve really lost is the truth. The truth is God wasn’t messing around when He knit you together in your mother’s womb. He wasn’t messing around when He created the ins and outs of your soul. He wasn’t messing around when He gave you your family, your community, your country. God’s plan for you has never been anything but perfect, but the minute you begin messing with that perfection, you run into trouble. Like Eve, who traded intimacy with God for a bite of rebellion, we trade our divinely-inspired dignity for a forgery.
I’m writing this not as a reprimand, but as a confession. I came to DTS with a smashed-up view of my own image, and it’s taken months of God’s gentle, persistent love for me to even recognize it. For years, I’ve relied on others to tell me who I was. I’ve run the rat-race of people-pleasing, and I’ve run it well. And dignity? I lost my dignity somewhere in my sea of self-doubt, and I’ve been struggling to keep my head above water ever since. When I reflect on what God’s saved me from, I’m reminded of Paul's words in Romans 7: “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” God is both the granter and restorer of dignity and it’s His truth that sets you free.
As I began to seek God for my identity, He began to speak dignity into my life. I came to DTS with a desire to be a doctor, but God quickly extinguished that desire and replaced it with a much deeper, life-long passion. The vision of the Priceless DTS is women, specifically victims of human-trafficking and prostitution. I chose Priceless because I’ve always had a passion for women’s issues, in fact, it might be the single greatest passion of my life. I heard somewhere that if you want to find your calling, figure out what makes you mad. Nothing makes me more furious than injustice against women. It’s funny, but when God told me He had called me to women, my first thought was, “that makes absolutely perfect sense. Why didn’t I come up with that?”
The second week of DTS, I asked God a simple question: “who am I?” If you’ve never asked God that before, I’d suggest you give it a try because God has a surprisingly large amount to say on that subject. With those simple words, the floodgates were opened and God told me who I was, reminding me of things I’d always known about myself and revealing gifts and passions I never knew I had. Perhaps the greatest revelation I received that day was God’s call of communication on my life. I’ve always been a passionate communicator. Writing, speaking, reading—I love words and the power they have to spread truth, sway minds, and inspire hearts. As I prayed that day, God told me He had created me to speak to the nations, specifically Europe. Now, if I could just figure out what the heck that was supposed to look like, I’d be golden.
As lecture phase continued, God continued to refine His calling for me. Week 6 of DTS focused on communication and advocacy. Our guest lecturer was Amber Hawkes, the CEO of International Justice Mission Australia, an organization of lawyers, social workers, and other professionals who seek justice for the poor. That week, I asked God a question related to my physical identity and He spoke to me so clearly, I could almost hear His voice. He said, “If you’re going to advocate for women, you need to look like a woman.” Grace is a two-way street—God was restoring dignity in my life so I could restore it in the lives of others.
It was becoming increasingly obvious that it wasn’t God’s plan for me to complete the Introduction to Primary Health Care school, but what was the plan? For someone with absolutely zero patience and an unhealthy obsession with planning for the future, the silence was deafening. When I prayed about the future, God’s response was always, “Wait. The plan is coming.” I looked into several second-level YWAM schools, but nothing seemed to fit. It was strange, but Amsterdam kept coming up. Suddenly, everyone I met had a friend from Amsterdam or an amazing story about their trip to Amsterdam or a picture of the city’s canals and bike-ridden streets. I knew God was calling me to advocate for women and to Europe, so just for kicks, I decided to look up the YWAM base in Amsterdam. On the website, I read about a ministry of YWAM Amsterdam called the Lighthouse, which ministers to the prostitutes in the city’s notorious red-light district. The ministry visits the women in the windows, runs bible studies, and works to raise public awareness. The web page also happened to mention the Lighthouse’s desperate need for full-time staff. In the few spare minutes between dinner and Thursday Night Meeting, I sent off a hastily written inquiry.
I received a reply to my letter a few days later. I continued to pray about God’s direction concerning Amsterdam, but the response was still to wait. For the next month, I complained to God about waiting at night and to everyone else during the day. On a Thursday almost 6 weeks after I found out about Amsterdam, I had a serious discussion with God. I asked God, in the interest of public health and safety, to give me permission to apply for a staff position in Amsterdam, preferably at Thursday Night Meeting. That night the message was on dignity. The speaker highlighted the story from Luke 13 about the woman with the disabling spirit. In a society where women were excluded from education, government, even worship, Jesus noticed a woman who’d only ever been ignored. Not only did He see and speak to her, He touched her, shattering cultural barriers with a simple act of acceptance. In a society that valued sons, Jesus called the woman a daughter of Abraham. For centuries, women have been pushed to the side, but dignity is being included. For centuries, women have been silenced, but dignity is speaking the truth. For centuries, women have been told who they were supposed to be, but dignity is knowing who you are.
I have decided to apply for a two-year staff position with YWAM Amsterdam, working with the Lighthouse ministry to restore dignity in the lives of broken women. No, it’s not a year down under. It’s not medicine. For a while at least, it’s not college. It’s my call and my privilege and for the first time in my life, I know who I am. I’m a beloved daughter of God, endowed with dignity and purpose, and now it’s my turn to restore that dignity and purpose in the lives of others.
I used to think God was distant and uninterested in my life, that He was looking down from heaven, shaking His head at my failures. I used to think I had to spin around three times with my finger to my nose to get Him to speak to me, but God’s been showing up for me these past 3 months, and He’s a different God than the one I thought I knew. He created me uniquely and perfectly and He’s been guiding my life since day one. He loves me unconditionally, regardless of whether or not I make Him look good. He’s always been speaking to me, even when I was too stubborn to hear Him. I came to DTS with a broken view of God and myself, but if there’s one thing God’s been working to restore in my life these past few months, it’s dignity.
Simply put, dignity is knowing your inherent value regardless of the opinions of others. Dignity is knowing what you’re made of, or made after, and that’s God’s image. Dignity is an easy thing to lose. When we swallow Satan’s lies about who we are, we sacrifice the image for a black and white photocopy. We wander around in a mess of dissatisfaction trying to find ourselves, when all we’ve really lost is the truth. The truth is God wasn’t messing around when He knit you together in your mother’s womb. He wasn’t messing around when He created the ins and outs of your soul. He wasn’t messing around when He gave you your family, your community, your country. God’s plan for you has never been anything but perfect, but the minute you begin messing with that perfection, you run into trouble. Like Eve, who traded intimacy with God for a bite of rebellion, we trade our divinely-inspired dignity for a forgery.
I’m writing this not as a reprimand, but as a confession. I came to DTS with a smashed-up view of my own image, and it’s taken months of God’s gentle, persistent love for me to even recognize it. For years, I’ve relied on others to tell me who I was. I’ve run the rat-race of people-pleasing, and I’ve run it well. And dignity? I lost my dignity somewhere in my sea of self-doubt, and I’ve been struggling to keep my head above water ever since. When I reflect on what God’s saved me from, I’m reminded of Paul's words in Romans 7: “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” God is both the granter and restorer of dignity and it’s His truth that sets you free.
As I began to seek God for my identity, He began to speak dignity into my life. I came to DTS with a desire to be a doctor, but God quickly extinguished that desire and replaced it with a much deeper, life-long passion. The vision of the Priceless DTS is women, specifically victims of human-trafficking and prostitution. I chose Priceless because I’ve always had a passion for women’s issues, in fact, it might be the single greatest passion of my life. I heard somewhere that if you want to find your calling, figure out what makes you mad. Nothing makes me more furious than injustice against women. It’s funny, but when God told me He had called me to women, my first thought was, “that makes absolutely perfect sense. Why didn’t I come up with that?”
The second week of DTS, I asked God a simple question: “who am I?” If you’ve never asked God that before, I’d suggest you give it a try because God has a surprisingly large amount to say on that subject. With those simple words, the floodgates were opened and God told me who I was, reminding me of things I’d always known about myself and revealing gifts and passions I never knew I had. Perhaps the greatest revelation I received that day was God’s call of communication on my life. I’ve always been a passionate communicator. Writing, speaking, reading—I love words and the power they have to spread truth, sway minds, and inspire hearts. As I prayed that day, God told me He had created me to speak to the nations, specifically Europe. Now, if I could just figure out what the heck that was supposed to look like, I’d be golden.
As lecture phase continued, God continued to refine His calling for me. Week 6 of DTS focused on communication and advocacy. Our guest lecturer was Amber Hawkes, the CEO of International Justice Mission Australia, an organization of lawyers, social workers, and other professionals who seek justice for the poor. That week, I asked God a question related to my physical identity and He spoke to me so clearly, I could almost hear His voice. He said, “If you’re going to advocate for women, you need to look like a woman.” Grace is a two-way street—God was restoring dignity in my life so I could restore it in the lives of others.
It was becoming increasingly obvious that it wasn’t God’s plan for me to complete the Introduction to Primary Health Care school, but what was the plan? For someone with absolutely zero patience and an unhealthy obsession with planning for the future, the silence was deafening. When I prayed about the future, God’s response was always, “Wait. The plan is coming.” I looked into several second-level YWAM schools, but nothing seemed to fit. It was strange, but Amsterdam kept coming up. Suddenly, everyone I met had a friend from Amsterdam or an amazing story about their trip to Amsterdam or a picture of the city’s canals and bike-ridden streets. I knew God was calling me to advocate for women and to Europe, so just for kicks, I decided to look up the YWAM base in Amsterdam. On the website, I read about a ministry of YWAM Amsterdam called the Lighthouse, which ministers to the prostitutes in the city’s notorious red-light district. The ministry visits the women in the windows, runs bible studies, and works to raise public awareness. The web page also happened to mention the Lighthouse’s desperate need for full-time staff. In the few spare minutes between dinner and Thursday Night Meeting, I sent off a hastily written inquiry.
I received a reply to my letter a few days later. I continued to pray about God’s direction concerning Amsterdam, but the response was still to wait. For the next month, I complained to God about waiting at night and to everyone else during the day. On a Thursday almost 6 weeks after I found out about Amsterdam, I had a serious discussion with God. I asked God, in the interest of public health and safety, to give me permission to apply for a staff position in Amsterdam, preferably at Thursday Night Meeting. That night the message was on dignity. The speaker highlighted the story from Luke 13 about the woman with the disabling spirit. In a society where women were excluded from education, government, even worship, Jesus noticed a woman who’d only ever been ignored. Not only did He see and speak to her, He touched her, shattering cultural barriers with a simple act of acceptance. In a society that valued sons, Jesus called the woman a daughter of Abraham. For centuries, women have been pushed to the side, but dignity is being included. For centuries, women have been silenced, but dignity is speaking the truth. For centuries, women have been told who they were supposed to be, but dignity is knowing who you are.
I have decided to apply for a two-year staff position with YWAM Amsterdam, working with the Lighthouse ministry to restore dignity in the lives of broken women. No, it’s not a year down under. It’s not medicine. For a while at least, it’s not college. It’s my call and my privilege and for the first time in my life, I know who I am. I’m a beloved daughter of God, endowed with dignity and purpose, and now it’s my turn to restore that dignity and purpose in the lives of others.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Let's Talk About Love
I’m not sure if this is normal, but for the past couple months of DTS I’ve felt like I was drowning in a sea of revelation. Each week was like a new wave of gut-punching, head-spinning truth, and by the time week 8 rolled around, I was ready for a break. The topic was relationships, and I was feeling optimistic that this would be the week I’d catch my breath. After all, I call my parents every Saturday, I was homeschooled so I don’t have any friends, and my boyfriend, who’s 6’4”, has a Scottish accent, and looks like Liam Hemsworth, doesn’t technically exist in the realm of reality—in other words, I’m surprised they didn’t ask me to teach.
So Monday came around and I sat in my blue, plastic chair, smugly reveling in my relational ignorance. It was complete bliss for about 20 minutes, but then, things got personal.
God is, at His very core, a relational being. Before the world was made, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit existed in perfect relationship—three separate beings made one by magnificent, unadulterated love. From the overflow of love that bound the trinity together, man was created. After God created the world in Genesis 1:31, the bible says, “and God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good,” but in Genesis 2:18, God says, “it is not good that the man should be alone.” God created us for relationship—relationship with the Godhead and relationship with each other.
God created us so He could share His love with us, and we are commanded to show that same love in our human relationships. 1 John 4:7-11 says, “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent His only Son into the world, so that we might live through Him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.”
So, relationships are about love. Now, where have I heard that one before? Oh yeah, in every song, book, and movie I’ve ever heard, read, or watched. If you’ve had any exposure to popular culture, you probably figured out that the world is a little obsessed with love and relationships. Love is what makes our world go round, but how does the world love? To answer this question, I’ve done a literary study of the popular book series “Twilight.” In a nutshell, the world’s definition of relationships is all about fulfilling your own emotional needs. So, your boyfriend’s a pale, sparkly vampire who abandons you without explanation and attempts to control your life for what he claims to be your own protection? That’s a little concerning, but more importantly, does he complete you?
Thankfully, Jesus isn’t Edward Cullen, and His love looks a lot different than the world’s selfish, needy version of love. How did Christ show His love for us? “Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His wounds we are healed (Isaiah 53:4-5).” Chist’s love looks like sacrifice. Jesus gave up everything—His position as God’s Son, His right to be accepted by His people, even His right to a natural death—so that we could have a relationship with the Father He loved more than His own life. In a world that’s obsessed with using others to fill our emptiness, Jesus is the only one who gives.
Now here’s the part where I started squirming. John 13:34: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” We are commanded to love each other like Christ loved us. If Christ’s love looks like the cross, what are our relationships supposed to look like? Jesus standard of love is laying down your life. It doesn’t mean playing nice, it doesn’t mean patting people on the back, it doesn’t mean getting along with people—it means dying every single day. Love isn’t a feeling that comes and goes, love is a choice we make to lay aside ourselves, to take our bad moods and snippy words, our needs and personal preferences, and nail them to the cross.
As Christians, we need to stop talking and singing and writing about love and start doing love. Love is our commandment—the mark that shows the world we’ve been with Christ. It’s the active expression of the grace we’ve received—a sweet perfume that still smells a little like Golgotha. Without it, our prayers and songs and mission trips are useless. Turns out, love really is what makes the world go round. God is love and He so loved the world He gave His only Son so that we might know that love. And that’s the love my friends, not the self-seeking feelings of our lovestruck world, that will truly complete you.
So Monday came around and I sat in my blue, plastic chair, smugly reveling in my relational ignorance. It was complete bliss for about 20 minutes, but then, things got personal.
God is, at His very core, a relational being. Before the world was made, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit existed in perfect relationship—three separate beings made one by magnificent, unadulterated love. From the overflow of love that bound the trinity together, man was created. After God created the world in Genesis 1:31, the bible says, “and God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good,” but in Genesis 2:18, God says, “it is not good that the man should be alone.” God created us for relationship—relationship with the Godhead and relationship with each other.
God created us so He could share His love with us, and we are commanded to show that same love in our human relationships. 1 John 4:7-11 says, “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God. Anyone who does not love does not know God, because God is love. In this the love of God was made manifest among us, that God sent His only Son into the world, so that we might live through Him. In this is love, not that we have loved God but that He loved us and sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.”
So, relationships are about love. Now, where have I heard that one before? Oh yeah, in every song, book, and movie I’ve ever heard, read, or watched. If you’ve had any exposure to popular culture, you probably figured out that the world is a little obsessed with love and relationships. Love is what makes our world go round, but how does the world love? To answer this question, I’ve done a literary study of the popular book series “Twilight.” In a nutshell, the world’s definition of relationships is all about fulfilling your own emotional needs. So, your boyfriend’s a pale, sparkly vampire who abandons you without explanation and attempts to control your life for what he claims to be your own protection? That’s a little concerning, but more importantly, does he complete you?
Thankfully, Jesus isn’t Edward Cullen, and His love looks a lot different than the world’s selfish, needy version of love. How did Christ show His love for us? “Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was pierced for our transgressions; He was crushed for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with His wounds we are healed (Isaiah 53:4-5).” Chist’s love looks like sacrifice. Jesus gave up everything—His position as God’s Son, His right to be accepted by His people, even His right to a natural death—so that we could have a relationship with the Father He loved more than His own life. In a world that’s obsessed with using others to fill our emptiness, Jesus is the only one who gives.
Now here’s the part where I started squirming. John 13:34: “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.” We are commanded to love each other like Christ loved us. If Christ’s love looks like the cross, what are our relationships supposed to look like? Jesus standard of love is laying down your life. It doesn’t mean playing nice, it doesn’t mean patting people on the back, it doesn’t mean getting along with people—it means dying every single day. Love isn’t a feeling that comes and goes, love is a choice we make to lay aside ourselves, to take our bad moods and snippy words, our needs and personal preferences, and nail them to the cross.
As Christians, we need to stop talking and singing and writing about love and start doing love. Love is our commandment—the mark that shows the world we’ve been with Christ. It’s the active expression of the grace we’ve received—a sweet perfume that still smells a little like Golgotha. Without it, our prayers and songs and mission trips are useless. Turns out, love really is what makes the world go round. God is love and He so loved the world He gave His only Son so that we might know that love. And that’s the love my friends, not the self-seeking feelings of our lovestruck world, that will truly complete you.
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